Regression
by Cas the Mad Hatter
Summary: Kid!Spn fic. I just wanted an overload of cuteness, really. Not set in a particular season, though obviously after S4 since Cas is present.


It was a Hell of predicament the unlikely trio had gotten themselves into. Sam Winchester's large feet were currently pacing across the thinly carpeted floor of a back ways motel as one large hand rubbed over his temple. Every so often he would quietly mutter a curse to himself before blowing out a puff of air, his unruly hair drifting upwards in the small, man made breeze.

"What the fuck? What the fuck just happened?" he kept muttering the words to himself over and over again.

A few feet away on one of the twin beds, two tiny bodies lay curled together. One was slumbering and the other was wide awake, a pair of innocent, shocking blue eyes staring intently at the man. The two children were no more than five; both wearing tee shirts so big they looked like hilarious dresses, one with a Led Zeppelin logo emblazoned on the front, the other an AC/DC one. The child that was awake made no attempt to move lest he wake the sleeping child who was curled around him but his eyes followed Sam's movement, blinking now and then.

The tall Winchester stopped momentarily to stare at the two kids, disbelief still strong in his hazel eyes. His brother and the angel; it was undoubtedly them. Dean looked just as he had in photos Sam had seen before he was born, and the shock of black hair and startlingly blue eyes proved that it was Castiel in the body of the second small child. It was just the how, who and why Sam was fuzzy on. But right then, the hunter's main concern was not that but one, how to turn them back and two, how to care for them in the mean time. Sam was the little brother; he had no freaking clue on how to care for kids.

At that moment, a murmur and a little yawn came from the bed. Sam turned to see the young Dean untangle himself from Castiel and sit up, tiny fists rubbing sleep from green eyes. Once the boy had blinked the sleep away from his eyes, he looked up at Sam and smiled pleasantly.

"Sammy!" he exclaimed, climbing off the bed with a small struggle and running over to the now-older Winchester as fast as his little legs could carry him. Dean tipped his head way back to look up at Sam and raised his arms up, delicate little hands making grabbing motions. "Up, up," Dean requested as his brother blinked down at him, bewildered. Sam realised what Dean wanted and leant down, sweeping the small boy into his arms and picking him up. The child settled happily into Sam's comforting hold, nuzzling into the man's flannel shirt.

The long haired man looked down at his ex-big brother whilst the knot in his stomach grew bigger still. As Dean's short arms wrapped themselves round Sam's neck, a realisation came to the adult. Did Dean or Castiel have any memory of what happened? Did they have any idea who they were, or how old they were meant to be? Sam shifted awkwardly with the boy still in his arms and gulped nervously.

"Uh, D-Dean," he stammered, "How old are you?" He figured a more ambiguous question would be best; there was no sense in explaining anything to Dean and Cas. It would just confuse them, or make them incredibly anxious.

The kid looked at Sam with bemused confusion and then something happened that Sam would never have imagined. Dean giggled, actually giggled. A high pitched, gleeful giggle. "I'm five, stupid," he answered, giving his brother a look but smiling lovingly nonetheless. Sam would have smirked at the giggle had he not been concerned by the answer. It was the one he'd been dreading; Dean had no idea that anything had happened, and he was sure Cas was the same. Sam nodded at the child in his arms as he stared into space, just trying to get his head round the situation. He must have drifted off for a long time because he began to feel something moving in his arms. He shook himself back to reality and turned to look at Dean.

"Sammy," the kid whined, "Let me down," his face was scrunched in annoyance as his little legs kicked. The man just looked at Dean blankly, just staring, unable to really move. Suddenly, after a few more moments of wriggling, the child slipped. Slowly at first but then he dropped quickly from Sam's arms and fell to the floor from two feet or so. Sam was startled back into movement at the thump and looked down. Dean was in a heap on the floor; he blinked a few times and then his bottom lip began to wobble, tears slowly began to build and then he started to wail. It was loud and hysterical, punctuated by hiccups and sniffles. Castiel immediately began to whimper and sob as well, climbing off the bed and stumbling over to Dean and sitting beside him, joining him the loud wailing.

The adult hunter's eyes widened and he stepped away from the distressed kids, rushing into the en suite bathroom, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans and frantically dialling the only person he could think to ask for help.

"Sam?" the gruff voice of Bobby Singer answered.

Yes, Sam had called Bobby. Sure, he may not have looked like the type to care for kids but he acted as Dean and Sam's surrogate father and though he may deny it, he was soft and caring and Sam just really needed some help.

"Bobby!" Sam exclaimed with relief, "Oh, god. They're crying and screaming and I don't know what to do! Please help."

"Whoa, whoa," the voice on the other end was confused, "Calm down, son. Who's crying?"

"Dean and Cas," the younger man said with a gasp, "They…," he groaned in embarrassment, so sure that Bobby would just hang up on him, "Somehow, they've regressed. They're both five."

For a moment, there was a silence on the phone, the crying muffled in the background through the bathroom door. "Mentally or…" Bobby's questioning tone trailed off. The old hunter had seen enough to know it was entirely possible for people's mental age to regress severely through a simple injury or more likely a spell or something supernatural.

"Mentally _and_ physically," Sam mumbled, sounding absolutely dejected.

"Oh," was all Bobby could say. Back at Singer's Salvage Yard, Bobby was sinking into a seat, shock written all over his face.

"Yeah," Sam's reply was murmured. The wailing kids were still in the background, getting even louder if it was possible.

"I-is that crying? They're crying, Sam? What happened?" Bobby sounded incredibly concerned.

Sam turned red, "I dropped Dean."

"On his head?" he could hear the shock in Bobby's voice.

"No, no. He wriggled out of my arms and started crying and now Cas is crying too and they won't stop and I don't know what to do. Oh my god, oh my god," Sam started to ramble desperately.

"Sam, shut up. Idjit," Bobby rolled his eyes, sighing softly, "Just calm them down, see if Dean is okay, get them both some warm milk or somethin'" he paused a moment to look at his watch, "It's late, you should probably get them to bed, too. Tomorrow, drive up to mine and I'll see what I can do."

"Okay, yeah. That sounds right," the younger hunter breathed slowly, trying to calm himself, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"And get them car seats, okay?" Bobby added as a thought, "See you, Sam."

The tall hunter took a deep breath, opening the bathroom door as he pocketed his phone and stepped back into the motel room. Dean and Cas were still sobbing and sniffling, faces red from all the tears. He kneeled down beside them, anxious and concerned.

"Hey, guys," Sam spoke softly, "C'mon, stop all the crying," he carefully sat Dean up and quickly checked the boy over, "You okay, Dean buddy?"

Dean nodded, sniffling and wiping at his puffy eyes. Cas was still crying quietly.

"Cas, c'mon. Dean's okay, see? He's fine," Sam insisted, picking up the tiny angel and sitting him on his lap, hoping the blue eyed boy wouldn't freak out or anything. Little Dean smiled slightly, nodding encouragingly at Cas and picking himself up to sit in Sam's lap, cuddling Cas gently. Slowly, the angel quieted his hiccupping cries and became silent once again. He hadn't spoken a word since before he became a child.

Sam checked his watch again and realised Bobby was right; it was almost eleven. Eleven pm normally wouldn't have been late and Sam would probably be sitting in a bar with his brother right now but his Dean and Cas were five. And five years were supposed to be sound asleep at this time of night.

"Alright, guys," Sam held both the kids tightly and stood up, walking over to the bed which the two had been occupying earlier, "time to go to bed." He carefully put them both down in the bed.

Castiel was silent and obedient, settling down in the bed as he gave a wide yawn. The crying seemed to have tired him out and his normally wide eyes were drooping and lacked their normal spark of liveliness. Dean stayed sitting up for a moment, his arms cross and giving Sam a defiant look, determined to stay awake. But when Cas timidly pulled on his shirt and wriggled closer to him, Dean softened and lay down beside the angel, shutting his eyes.

"Good boys," Sam remarked, remembering his dad saying the same to the brothers so long ago. He pulled the sheets up and carefully tucked the kids in then quietly undressed and got to bed himself, switching off the main light though he left a dim lamp on, knowing that it was common for kids to sleep with a light on. He sighed and shut his eyes; trying to will away the headache he could feel brewing. Today had been long, slow, stressful. And tomorrow could only be worse.


End file.
